Sometimes, I work in docks. I watch the river
zigzag and twist ahead with trailing wind.
Resembling an arrow, leaving quiver,
it flies to the horizon. There, is pinned.
I’m carrying a crate. My stride’s highlighted
unfathomable confidence stands out.
Unlike my colleagues, I have never cited,
that all of the around is dark and doubt.
Amongst them: future footballer, a rapist,
a gambler, priest, a lad behind the bar.
They drink their coffee, scrutinize their papers.
They yet to be aware of who they are.
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© Copyright: Артем Хабипов, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116121704267
Свидетельство о публикации №116121704267
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